


Go Big or Go Home

by dearjayycee



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Homophobia, Large Cock, M/M, Mentions of Canon Content, Penis Size, Praise Kink, Rimming, Size Kink, Slurs, size queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearjayycee/pseuds/dearjayycee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as much as Mickey loathed his father the man had taught him some good life lessons. He had always told his sons to go big or go home, of course he had meant crime and drug use and if Terry was to find out that his queer son had taken that to heart but not in the way he had wanted, Mickey would surely be dead. So of course this being instilled in him since a young age,  when it came to cock he felt the same way. To him there was no reason to risk his life getting rammed up the ass if the cock doing it wasn’t fucking huge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Big or Go Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first delve into the Shameless fandom writing wise and now that we know how big Ian is I needed a story about it. Sorry this is unbeta'd so yeah, I hope you enjoy this.

Mickey Milkovich was many things, white trash, a criminal, stupid, a horrible person, to name a few, all of these were easy to accept. The one thing that he could barely even say in his own mind while everyone else in the house was passed out was that he was a pole-smoking queer.

 

He had tried for so long to deny it, push it down with drugs and booze, but it always hit him at the worst times. Came up like vomit after a bender. His sister bringing over her new toy was one of those times. Sure, he had seen the kid before, robbed the place he worked enough times to remember his face. But for some reason, maybe the high of criminal deeds, Mickey hadn’t really seen the kid ‘till now. He was tall, freckled as fuck and the dumb look on his face just made Mickey want to punch him because of how much it made him want to fuck him.

 

But Mickey held it in, it wasn’t worth his life. The night his father finally died, either in a shootout or in a puddle of his own vomit was the day Mickey could finally start being himself. As in getting pounded. Hell, he would probably even do it in his father’s bed just out of spite. Jizz all over the assholes cigarette burnt comforter. But all those thoughts scared the shit out of Mickey.

 

Ever since he realized he was gay, during his first stint in Juvie, he had lived in a constant state of fear. Afraid of getting too drunk, too high, too angry or too relaxed and letting it slip.

 

He was almost grateful every time he got caught for something because that meant some time away. Time away from his shit life, and his shit family, and his shitty problems. Just for a while. Just some rest. Not the mention the communal showers and horny guys jacking off at night weren’t too bad either.

 

And if getting chicks to let him fuck them up the ass while wishing (commanding) they shut their fucking mouths to keep up appearances and to get as close as he could to what he wanted than it was what it fucking was.

 

Sure the thought of hard abs and harder cocks plagued him. Woke up in the middle of the night hard and wanting and it was the only thing that kept him hard while fucking a slut.

 

And for as much as he loathed his father the man had taught him some good life lessons. He had always told his sons to go big or go home, of course he had meant crime and drug use and if Terry was to find out that his queer son had taken that to heart but not in the way he had wanted, Mickey would surely be dead. So of course this being instilled in him since a young age,  when it came to cock he felt the same way. To him there was no reason to risk his life getting rammed up the ass if the cock doing it wasn’t fucking huge.  

 

Sure this meant he never took it, he knew he wanted to, knew instinctively that having a hard dick up his ass would make him moan like a bitch in heat. But pickings in the South Side were slim, nothing that came close to his sign saying you must be this big to ride the ride. Blowjobs and handjobs were one thing but anal was another. He might only get a beating for a blowjob.

 

But Mandy now had a tall puppy following her around and it was fucking hard on Mickey. And if he had gone to the Kash n’ Grab just in the hope of getting another look at the kid than that was his fucking business.

 

And truth be told waking up to the kid standing over him rearing for a fight was like heaven. Fighting had always got Mickey hard. It was the closest thing he got to going at it with a dude, hand on hand, brawling about, it was amazing. And this kid gave as good as he got, but Mickey was better. Finding himself perched on top of the kids chest tire iron in hand.

 

He knew as he looked down that the kid that they were the same, that if he reached behind himself to check the kids crotch that he would be just as hard. Mickey wanted so bad, body almost begging for it. But he couldn’t Terry was home on vacation from jail and Mickey had no doubt in his mind that he would be beat to death and then pissed on him if his father even thought for a second he was into guys.

 

So he did what he did best, pushed it down before standing up and sighing, before he could even do anything else his father came barreling into his room, already pulling his own junk out as he stumbled to the toilet. It just confirmed what Mickey had feared. He went still with the panic that rushed him, was standing here with a guy laying in his bed gay enough for his father to noticed. His erection had gone down instantly so at least he didn’t have to worry about hiding that and the scared kid on his bed seem to be in the same position, both stock-still.

 

Terry came back out, eye barely open and hand scratching his balls before leaving the room, door open.

 

Mickey rushed to close it and then started rifling through his dresser to find the gun that kid had come for. Before the other could start to talk, because really Mickey just didn’t want to hear or think about it, he handed over the gun mumbling here before pushing the kid out of his room.

 

He flopped back onto his bed, hand covering his face as he let out a shuddering breath. He was so fucked.

 

Mickey found himself three days later back at the Kash N’ Grab. He was so fucking weak. The bell rang overhead as he pulled the door open, Gallagher was standing behind the counter looking down at a textbook. He didn’t even look up so Mickey stalked by, standing at the end on an aisle looking over bags of chips to sneak glances at him. Like some fucking stalker.

 

Mickey stood there for a good ten minutes before getting pissed off at himself enough to get ready to leave. He grabbed a pack of gum and stalked up to the counter, boots hitting heavily against the floor and still the kid didn’t even give him the time of day. It was making Mickey’s blood boil, he could feel the itch on his palms begging him to grab shit and leave. But he held it down, slamming the pack of cinnamon gum onto the counter waiting for Gallagher to ring him up.

 

He didn’t look his way as he rung up the gum, only looking up when he handed the pack over to Mickey, one eyebrow raised and stupid smirk on his face. Mickey wanted to reach over the counter and slam the kids head into the cash register. Wanted to see the stupid red hair matted down with even redder blood, blood and freckles spattered together. That seemed like a perfect plan.  

 

Mickey snatched the gum out of the larger hand, ignoring the spark it sent down his spin, and marched his way out. Grumbling to himself before realizing he had just spent money on gum. “Fuck.” he nearly screamed.

 

He was so fucking weak, for the first time in his whole life he paid for shit gum. He didn’t even like cinnamon.

 

This went on for a few weeks, Mickey coming in six times in one day buying random little shit just to use Gallagher’s smirk to get his rocks off later that night. And when his anger with his own weakness finally built up to a boiling point he would stomp in, steal a bunch of shit while Gallagher would simply say he would put it on Mickey’s tab.

 

And when Mickey would come in the next day, pack of gum in hand, he would pay whatever the kid asked for with only the smallest grunt of protest before leaving.

 

Fuck, so fucking weak with all these faggy feelings. Wanting to feel Gallagher above him and inside of him and wanted to be held close like he was going to fall apart at any second. Like he was some bitch. And hell the kid knew what he was doing, didn’t even have to say Mickey’s name to have him wrapped around his little finger. Later at night Mickey would worry his lip, blood filling his mouth wondering if one more beer would get him too drunk or if one more beer would make him forget. He was getting reckless, so fucking reckless. He stumbled out of his house, bottle of jack in hand as he made his way over to the warehouse, locking the door behind him. At least here he could drink all he wanted without worrying if he was going to lose control of his mind and mouth.

 

He was safer here, could pull down his pants, ass up in the air while he slipped dry fingers into himself, loving the burn of being stretched and filled. It wasn’t enough, it was never enough. He always craved more and pulling at his cock didn’t help any. It was dry and needy and nothing close to what he wanted, only air against his back when he all he wanted was strong arms to cage him in and press him against the cold cement floor. Even the thought of it made his dick drool. Almost, imagining was almost enough. But as soon as he hit that spot inside of himself, fingers struggling to do it over and over, it was enough. In the moment he imagined red hair, large hand, and a stupid dopey smile as he came, screaming fuck over and over and over while his body shook and his ass tightened around his fingers. Mickey collapsed onto the floor, landing in the pool of cooling spunk. He couldn’t even be bothered to move, too drunk and too lazy. Too fucking weak.

 

He pulled over he bottle of jack, taking a swig and sighing before hitting his head against the concrete.

 

Mickey had tried, he really did, but he was back at the Kash N’ Grab the next day. He knew he was being obvious, he couldn’t even help himself. And Gallagher would just smirk the whole time and Mickey wanted to wipe the smirk off his face with his own face.

 

But this time, as Mickey stood behind the chip stand watching Gallagher, the kid walked to the front door, locking it and turning the sign over to closed. He stood there looking at Mickey with sharp eyes, making Mickey squirm and sweat trickle down his back, arms crossed making his biceps bulge. Mickey wanted to start screaming, kicking and running but he couldn’t make his body do what he wanted. Never seem to be able around the kid.

 

Ian spoke up, tone confident in a way that made Mickey’s knees buckle, “Wanna fuck?”

 

Mickey almost walked up to the kid and beat the fucking shit out of him, how fucking dare he insinuate Mickey was gay. But they both knew already, and Mickey was weak, the way Gallagher’s eyes sparked, so fucking homo, he knew he couldn’t do it. So instead the most honest thing he ever said about his sexuality came out. “Fuck you Gallagher, I don’t bend over and take it for anything less than than seven inches. And your small Irish cock isn’t going to do it for me.” He expected that to wipe the stupid grin off his face. But it only made him smirk harder, almost tearing his face in two. Mickey almost said fuck it and bashed the kid’s skull in just so that look would go away.

 

Mickey stepped forward getting ready to leave, almost out the door and to safety where he could pretend this had never happened and never show his face here again. But Gallagher gripped his upper arm, holding him in place, and Mickey turn to get ready to yell at him but then the stupid kid was whispering in his ear, “Good thing I’m packing nine inches.” His voice is a low rumble and it made Mickey shiver, eyes shutting as he lets out a breathy sigh.

 

He could feel his cock twitching, and fuck it, he was going to get fucked, screw it, if the firecrotch was really that hung than it was worth the risk.

 

But who was he kidding, it had nothing to do with the size of the kid’s cock. Mickey wanted Gallagher inside of him regardless of size, something he never thought he would say, hell, the thought completely shocked him. But now, knowing the kid was ready, willing, and packing Mickey could no longer push it down. Fuck it he was a pole-smoking queer and hell if he was going to hold onto his virginity any longer.

 

Mickey nodded, letting Gallagher drag him to the back room, Gallagher laid him out on the table. He was nervous, chewing on his lip ‘till it started to bleed. Ian stopped to look down at him with concerned eyes, “Are you okay?” Mickey felt sick with the concern the kid was showing him. It made him feel weak, like a bitch afraid to bleed on her first go.

 

Once again not even in his own mind would he admit it. That it was true, that he wanted this for so long but it scared the ever living shit out of him. Mickey turned his head to the side, hands shaking as he clutched at the edge of the table with Gallagher standing between his thighs. He wasn’t a bitch, he could do this.  “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

 

Ian leaned down, caging Mickey in and staring into his eyes, making Mickey look back giving him nowhere else to look or run. “Have you ever been fucked before?”

 

Mickey wanted to bite out that of course he had, that this wasn’t his first rodeo, but he couldn’t, he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on the abused flesh. Realization dawned on Ian’s face, his eye’s went soft and his smile softened, not as predatory as it had been. Mickey wanted to kick him away and run, but he was weak, couldn’t try pushing him away even if he truly wanted to. He felt so raw and vulnerable and it was all so new. And fuck, when Gallagher leaned down, whispering against his ear, “I’ll take care of you,” it made Mickey moan like it the best blowjob ever. So fucking weak.

 

His hands were still shaking as Gallagher started to unbutton his jeans, the flicking of his wrist was too fucking smooth. Ian pulled down the jeans and underwear that probably hadn’t been washed in weeks. Mickey was suddenly conscious of way he smelled, the fact he hadn’t bathed in a week and and had slept in this shirt for about three days. He felt so fucking gay, worrying about all this stupid shit that didn’t matter. He was too worried to realize that Ian was now kneeling between his legs, running strong hands over Mickey’s thighs, making them quiver.

 

Suddenly, those hands that Mickey couldn’t help but watched as they flipped through pages of a textbook, ringing up the useless items Mickey had continued to buy just to get a chance to see him, those fucking perfect hands were on his cock. Sure and tight and hot and perfect. And the lube dripping on the head of his dick as long fingers rubbed at the slit made him almost bash his brains out as he arched his back, skull knocking against the table.  Ian continued in long, steady strokes, still between Mickey’s thighs with his warm breath blowing over his balls. It was perfect, the best handjob he had ever received, hands down. Just tight enough so that he didn’t lose control and suddenly come all over himself. Like he was sure he would otherwise.

 

Just as he thought he couldn’t get any better there was suddenly a tongue lapping at his taint. It was too fucking gay and Mickey reached over to pull Gallagher’s head away, but just as he got a grip to push him away the tongue slid down farther. Long wet licks over his asshole. And just then all the too gay fight Mickey had moments ago disappeared and he barely had time to think what he was doing as he pulled Ian’s head in closer.

 

If this was any kind of sign to what was to come Mickey would be ruined for the rest of his life. Nothing had felt like this. Gallagher’s tongue swirling around the rim before dipping in making Mickey try to push his ass closer, the hand holding tight around the base of his cock not even a thought. Ian continued, soon adding a slick finger making Mickey pant, grounding into it silently begging for more. He was stuck between wanting the kid to continue to finger fucking him slow and soft and wanting him to shove that supposed nine inch cock in him fast and raw ripping him in two.

 

But he wasn’t in control of this, and it turned him on more once he realized that, that he was powerless in this moment. And his cock felt harder than ever before, precum dripping down to Ian’s fingers still holding off his orgasm.

 

After two more fingers were added Mickey’s vision had gone blurry around the edges, a hot tongue still lapping at his stretched ass. The angle Ian’s fingers had, reaching deeper than his own could ever do, made him feel so full, not enough but still so good. Just a simple twist and Mickey was screaming out, “Gallagher,” the owner of the fingers in question chuckling before hitting that spot over and over. And fuck Mickey just wanted something bigger inside of him, more pressure and he said so. Begged for it, “Come on fuck me, please, just fuck me-”

 

And Ian finally decided to do what Mickey wanted, pulling his fingers out, and it made him whimper, he felt so fucking needy like now no matter what happened he wouldn’t be able to stop, the store could start to burn and he would still want Gallagher inside of him. Ian leaned down, forearms braced onto the table staring Mickey down as he positioned his cock, like he actually cared to see how Mickey felt when he first pushed inside.

 

But fuck it hurt so good. The burn as the large cockhead stretched of his ass, already feeling so much more full. Gallagher paused, wasn’t rushed to get off, petting Mickey’s cheek and kissing at his jaw. It was all too much. Too fucking good, too fucking intimate. And he was helpless, utterly and totally helpless. Wrapping his arms around Ian’s back so that he could hold on for dear life, fingers running through short red hair grounding them both.

 

He had wanted this to be fast, hard, worthless, and something he could regret later. That wasn’t what this was it was. It was sweet, caring, and slow. Something he would always look back fondly at. And it was one of the worst things he ever felt. Worse than being told he was shit, worse than knowing his father would killing him if he let out two words, worse than knowing he was going nowhere that he would be stuck here forever. Nothing was worse than the way Ian looked at him as he continued to push his way inside. Making Mickey feel like he was breaking in two and that the only thing holding the pieces together was Ian’s strong arms on either side of his body. Like if he left Mickey would shatter and never be able to put the pieces back together.  It was so fucking gay. So fucking gay.

 

And Mickey lov--liked every second of it.

 

When Gallagher was fully seated, balls pressed against his ass, Mickey fully adjusted and ready he finally spoke up, “Come on Firecrotch, teach me what all the fuss is about.”

 

Ian smirked before getting to work, knocking the wind out of Mickey’s lungs and making him moan like a Russian whore. It was broken with every long, slow thrust. Like he wasn’t just trying to get off but to make this as good as possible for him. It was like nothing he ever experienced, nothing he had heard of, or seen. He might almost call it that gay thing people sometimes called sex. But they didn’t know each other. It wasn’t that.

 

Gallagher continued his methodical thrusts, switching up angles with every thrust until Mickey was screaming out his last name over and over. And it was so fucking dangerous. This was the kind of shit that could get him killed, being too loud. But his mouth had a mind of his own, like he had mixed vodka and jack. It always made him loose-lipped. A high so good and he wouldn’t wake up the next day hungover.

 

Mickey finally realized his cock had been neglected when Ian started to stroke at the same pace as his thrusts. Chanting about how good Mickey was, how perfect, how hot, how tight. And normally he would beg his partners to shut the fuck up. But it was so good.

 

The deep rumble, hard and almost growling, as he told Mickey things he never expected to hear, let alone for it to be honest. To be told he was good, it hit things in Mickey he hadn’t know about himself.

 

So many things he had discovered about himself in the last hour, that red hair, freckles and too fucking green eyes really did it for him. And slow, steady sex was something he could now jack off too. And that being told how good he was made his cock twitch. Not to mention that maybe he was gay enough for rimming. It was like he was a whole new person. And the biggest thing was that he realized some things were worth being this scared over.

 

Ian’s mouth was on Mickey’s neck again, teeth scraping over delicate skin as he muttered Mickey’s name over and over. And Mickey came, so fucking hard, without even feeling it coming he had been on edge for so long. Everything was white and floaty. Ian still fucking into him for a few more less steady thrusts before coming, barely holding himself up to keep from collapsing into Mickey. Gallagher continued to kiss pale skin the whole way through them both coming down, finally pulling out and throwing the condom to the side. Pulling himself up off the table. Hands still moving against Mickey’s thighs. He was too sensitive and it made him want to push way the kid. But he couldn’t, didn’t want to.

 

“Same time tomorrow?” Ian asked voice rough, while he pulled Mickey’s pants up for him, rubbing his arm and waiting for him to fully recover. And something in Mickey’s chest swelled, he couldn’t put a name to it but he knew it was something to be afraid of. But it felt great, tight and warm and restrictive, just like Ian’s arms had.

  
Mickey looked up at the kid, lip back between his teeth, this was dangerous. He couldn’t do this. No he couldn’t. And even though he didn’t say yes or no, they both knew he would be back. He was too fucking weak.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated.


End file.
